Late Night Loyalty
by brodie-wan
Summary: Castle returns to the precinct to talk to Beckett.
1. Chapter 1

**[b]Title: Late Night Loyalty**

**Fandom: [link=/]Castle[/link] (ABC crime dramedy)**

**Characters: Castle, Alexis, implied Beckett**

**Genre: dramedy**

**Timeframe: Season 2 **

**Autor Note: This is my second attempt at Castle fan fiction so be gentle and know that I love this show and want to do it justice. Reviews are welcome and encouraged. Enjoy![/b]**

**Late Night Loyalty **

When Castle arrived home at 1:15am, he saw the red head protruding from the top of the couch across the room. He was already trying to be quiet, but no manner of stealth would be able to get by his daughter.

"About time, Daddy?" Alexis called back over her shoulder. "Where have you been?"

Castle hung his coat near the door and lumbered across spacious living area to the couch where his daughter was wrapped in a green blanket reading a newly minted galley proof of 'Heat Wave'. He picked up a pillow which had fallen to the floor and, hugging to his chest, plopped down next to her.

"Who's the parent here?" he said with mock seriousness. "I'm the one usually waiting up for you."

She snorted and placed the book on a side table. "I think the evidence is heavily stacked against you on that one."

"I know," he sighed. "Sorry to make you worry."

Leaning into him, she laid her head on his shoulder. "I'm just glad you're home. Are you working on a tough case?"

He didn't answer immediately. The case was a tough one. He was thankful Alexis hadn't turned on the news. A woman had been murdered in her home, in her bed. But, it appeared the husband had been drugged and unconscious during the entire attack. It had been a bloody, macabre scene; one Castle was glad he hadn't thought of himself.

"Daddy?" Alexis added to the silence.

"I'm sorry, dear," he replied, passively, still morbidly mulling over the crime scene. "Yeah, it was bad."

"Are you okay?" she asked, lifting her head from his shoulder and meeting his eyes.

"I'm fine, Honey," he replied, putting up a brave front for his daughter. The truth was he was disturbed; and not only that but he left the rest of the team at the station working through the night.

"You don't look fine," Alexis said, taking his chin her in hand and looking him over. "You're distracted, tired, and, Dad, a little scared."

He looked her solemnly and then let a small smile curl his lip. "Who made you so smart?"

"What's could be so bad it's got you scared?" She asked, intently.

"I really don't want to talk about it. And, it's not the kind of thing I'd want you to hear."

"Dad, I've read your books," she offered. "There's some pretty twisted stuff in them."

"Those are my imagination," he replied, evenly. "Even if there is some basis in truth, I'm really not going to tell you about this real murder. Just know it's bad."

"How is Beckett taking it?" Alexis asked, regrouping after a minor defeat.

"Worse than me," he said absently.

"Really?" Alexis was beginning to wonder whether she wanted to know if Kate Beckett was s affected as her father.

"No," he retorted. "She's hard as nails. Barely blinked. But it would be nice to see her vulnerable every now and then. You have to have a pretty thick skin to walk off that crime scene without losing your lunch."

Alexis looked her dad wearily. "You threw up?"

"Nope," he answered matter of fact. "But I almost did."

"Such hard skin," she replied, rolling her eyes.

"What do you know, Munchkin? Your old man's been around the block a few times."

"Yeah, around the block of your publisher's office."

"Ouch!" he cried, bringing both hands to his heart. "You wound me."

"Where is she now?" Alexis said through a laugh.

"Who?" he replied suddenly confused.

"Beckett?" she said as if the answer was obvious.

"Oh yeah. Back at the office with Ryan and Esposito."

"You left them at the office," she said, incredulous. "Still working?"

"Yeah, so? I have to come home sometime. Don't I?"

"I guess so," she said. "But if I were Beckett and I had a really bad case on my hands, I'd hope my partner, who happens to be dashingly handsome, and fairly cable at solving crimes as well as writing about them, would stick it out with me."

It was his turn to eye her wearily. He thought on the words and whose mouth they came from, and put the pillow behind his head before leaning backward on the couch. Alexis was right. He shouldn't have left. If the three of them were there still working the case, then so should he.

"You're absolutely right," he said, standing. He bent over and kissed her orange head. "Thank you, Honey."

He turned and headed for the door. Before closing it behind him, He pocked his head back through.

"Time for all good girls to got to bed. Don't wait up."


	2. Chapter 2

**Late Night Loyalty**

When Castle exited the elevator, he was surprised by the darkness of the squad room. Beckett was nowhere to be seen, though the light on her desk was on. He saw Ryan on the phone and Esposito seemed to be searching for something on his desk.

Ryan noticed him and nodded. "What are you doing back here?" he asked. "I though you went home to bed."

"Couldn't sleep," Castle replied. "Didn't seem right; leaving you guys here working."

Ryan leaned back in his chair and turned toward Esposito. "Aww, he likes us. He really likes us."

"Really, Kevin?" Castle retorted. "Sally Field? You can do better. Where's Beckett?"

Ryan jerked his head toward the break room.

Castle made his way to the small room, raising a hand to salute the detectives as he passed by.

He found Beckett sitting at a Formica table in the middle of the room. Her hands were cupped around a newly full mug of coffee. She stared, intently, at nothing. He watched her for a moment, not fully entering the room and alerting her to his presence. She truly was a thing of beauty. There was something sad in her, the place where her mother's murder lives, but also something fierce, some compelling drive to right wrongs, or by proxy right the wrong she has never been able to do.

Finally poked his head into the room. "Hi," he said, simply.

"Hey," she replied, surprised by his return. "What are you doing here?"

"What? You're not glad to see me whenever and wherever I should show up?"

"Of course," she said, easing a foot forward to push out the chair across from her. "Have a seat."

"Thanks." He sat down and placed his hand on the table, meshing his fingers together. "Anything new in the last hour?"

She looked him with tired eyes raised incredulously. "No."

"I see," he replied, not really happy with how the conversation was going so far. He was only getting short answers and he wanted her to say…more. "Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?"

"Go ahead," she answered, raising the cup of coffee to her lips.

Such a simple motion caused a stir in him and he almost forgot the question her was going to ask. It was really late and his brain was working on things other than murder.

"What are you looking at Castle?" she said, raising her voice a bit and adding some edge.

"Uhm…er…Sorry," he stammered. "I'm not sure where my head went. Anyway, how do you do it, Beckett?"

"Do what?" she asked, not sure which way this conversation might go. Castle, the man, had as many twists and turns as one of his novels.

"How do you coolly walk onto a crime scene in which a body has been terrible mutilated and not be affected by it. How is that possible?"

She looked him with hard, blue eyes. She blinked softening her gaze. "It's not like that, Castle. I remember them all."

"How do you deal with it?" He asked with genuine interest. He didn't understand how some could stand prolonged exposure to such carnage.

"Experience and training," said answered matter of fact. "It wasn't easy in the beginning, but you get used to it. I park it all in a special place in my brain and leave it there."

"Hmmm," he said, processing her answer. It's couldn't be as simple as that. "Do you talk to anyone about it?"

She leaned back in her chair. "Not if I can help it. Not many would understand."

"There are people the police-"

"What is this, Castle?" she asked through a beautiful but deadly scowl. "You worried about my mental health?"

"Don't need to worry," he retorted. "I already know you're mental." He hoped that would break the tension which had risen in the conversation.

"It takes one to know one, Castle," she said standing and moving toward the exit.

Castle didn't move, unsure whether he was being dismissed or teased. "Are you coming?" she said from the doorway.

"Coming!" he replied excitedly jumping from his chair and following her to her desk.

When they arrived at her desk, Castle added: "If you ever want to talk...about anything, I'm a good listener."

"And what qualifies you to listen to my deep dark work related secrets?" she asked, smiling..

He looked nonplussed. "I…just said I was a good listener."

"Fair enough," she said, sitting and opening the case file for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. It lay open on her desk for the next few seconds and neither of them spoke. She closed the file.

"So, you almost lost your lunch out there, today," she reminded him.

"Almost," he confirmed, waiting on her every word.

"My first murder scene was tame compared to what we saw today, but none the less, it was still pretty ugly. I lost it. Took a lot of grief for it, but we closed the case in two days. It was a slam dunk…"

Castle listened on purpose and soaked up every word, knowing that such moments of trust with Beckett were few and far between.


End file.
